


One Difference: Donna Doesn't Date a Kelso

by MistyMountainHop



Series: T7S: One Difference [3]
Category: That '70s Show
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 03:38:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyMountainHop/pseuds/MistyMountainHop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Point Place High declares Eric its Most Eligible Viking, and he wants to date other people. Jackie tries to set Donna up with Kelso's brother, but Donna's interest lies elsewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Difference: Donna Doesn't Date a Kelso

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show_ copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

 

ONE DIFFERENCE:  
**DONNA DOESN'T DATE A KELSO**

Donna came to the basement this morning unarmed. She hadn't expected her ex-boyfriend to shove his bachelorhood in her face—and in front of an audience, too. The _Point Place News_ was clutched in his hand, and feigned nonchalance crawled over his lips. "Oh, hey, Donna," he said. "Hey, um ... did you see the school paper?"

Their friends were sitting in their usual spots, on the ratty couch and rickety chairs. They probably thought she'd slap the paper from Eric's hand, but she kept her gaze on his eyes. She wouldn't let him have this victory. "Oh, yeah," she said. "Field hockey team's going to state. Whoo-hoo!"

Eric glanced around the basement at Hyde, Kelso, Fez, and even Jackie. Then he returned his focus to Donna, and his casual air was replaced by a smugness she couldn't stand. She fought to keep her hands unclenched, to keep from knocking his self-satisfaction from his face.

"Uh-oh," he sang, "looks like someone doesn't wanna talk about ... the new Most Eligible Viking."

She said nothing. Her blood was boiling into steam, but she moved past him and sat on the top edge of the couch. Ignoring him seemed like the best solution, but he wouldn't shut up.

"Look, Donna, this whole, uh ... 'Most Eligible' thing has really taught me something." His grin oozed arrogance, and he paused for effect. "I'm pretty."

He paused again, as if to let her soak in what he'd said. As if she didn't know how attractive he was ... or how attractive he was to other girls. But she knew, and she hated it.

His voice didn't soften when he finally continued. "So, what do you say we, like, officially start dating other people?"

 _Dating other people?_ His last words lodged in her chest like bullets, but she wouldn't let him see it. She clasped her hands together in mock prayer and said, "Oh, I've been waiting for your permission. And can I stay out past nine? Please? Please?"

Jackie and Kelso laughed, and Eric's smile faltered, but his arrogance remained strong. "As long as you're gonna be cool," he said, "when you see me with one ... two ... or seven of Point Place's juiciest tomatoes."

"It's just like old times," Hyde said from his chair, and Donna turned toward him. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was scowling. "Eric and Donna talking about meaningless crap that affects only them." He sighed and pushed himself off the chair. "I've missed it so."

He disappeared into his room, and she envied him. She couldn't leave without letting Eric know he'd gotten to her. And, _damn,_ how he'd gotten to her.

* * *

Eating lunch at The Hub was a mistake. Donna tried to focus on her homework, but Jackie wouldn't let her. She kept hitting Donna's arm and pointing to the jukebox. Eric had approached a vapid girl, Emily, from Donna's biology class.

"Oh, hi, Eric," Emily said. Her voice was entirely too bubbly for Donna's taste. "I saw your name in the paper."

"God, that totally slipped my mind." Eric reached toward his back pants pocket and removed a rolled-up _Point Place News_. "Although I think I have a copy right here."

Donna turned her attention back to her trigonometry homework, but Jackie hit her arm again. "Look at him," Jackie said. "Donna, you have to start dating, or you're gonna look pathetic. And I'm gonna look pathetic for being seen with you." She cupped her chin, as if she were deep in thought; then her tone brightened. "I know! I'll set you up."

"Carry the four..." Donna said and scribbled a few numbers on her paper.

"Okay, if you don't wanna do this," Jackie said, "just say so."

Donna glanced up at her. "I don't wanna do it."

"Oh, you don't know what you want." Jackie slammed Donna's trigonometry book closed. "I have the perfect man in mind for you. He just got out of the army, and he's totally hot."

Donna reopened her trigonometry book. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"Then I won't hang out with you anymore, not until you wise-up and put yourself out there."

"Jackie, I just got out of a relationship with someone I love. I don't wanna 'put myself out there' with someone I don't know. I had a hard enough time dating Eric, who I've loved since I was, like, four."

"So? Just have a fling."

"I don't think so." Donna's eyes scanned the next problem for her homework, but her mind didn't register it. "I needed over a year of being Eric's girlfriend before we ... you know. I can't jump into sex with a stranger."

Jackie groaned. "Fine, be boyfriendless. But my offer still stands. When you're sick of having no one to French, let me know, and I'll set you up with someone. _And_ I'll hang out with you again in public."

She shut Donna's book a second time and stood up. She strode past the jukebox and cast Eric a dirty look, something he couldn't see. His back was to her, and his eyes were on Emily. But he was speaking loudly, as if he wanted Donna to hear him.

"I really like that sweater," he said to Emily. "Shows off your collarbone—or décolletage, as they say in French."

"Gosh, thanks!" Emily giggled, and each laugh was a bubble Donna ached to pop. "I have to go, but I'll see you back here tomorrow at seven—if that works for you."

"It does, indeed..." he took her hand and raised it to his lips, "m'lady." He kissed the top of her hand, and she giggled again.

Donna considered flinging her thick trigonometry book at Eric's skull. He could date whomever he wanted, but he had no right to use his pet name for her on another girl.

His footsteps clomped on The Hub's linoleum floor, and he rejoined Hyde, Kelso, Fez, and Leo at their table—probably to brag about the date he'd just scored. If he spoke loudly enough for Donna to hear it, she'd walk over there and slam her trigonometry book on his big, fat head.

His conversation didn't carry across the floor, though, and she stared down at her fingernails. Maybe she should start biting them. It would be a distraction.

"Hey," a familiar voice said, and Donna looked up. Hyde was sitting in Jackie's vacated seat.

"Hey."

"I was readin' the _Kenosha News_ this morning." His fingers slid beneath the cover of her trigonometry book. They flipped it open and closed, open and closed, striking the table repeatedly. "The Headaches are playing at the Brat Stop tomorrow night. You wanna go?"

"You don't have to do that." She slapped the book cover over his knuckles. His fidgeting was annoying. "Or _that._ "

He withdrew his hand from the book. "Do what?"

"Feel sorry for me because Eric's started dating. We've been broken up for months. It's no big deal."

"Pity's got nothin' to do with it. Forman's busy 'cause of that date, and The Headaches are too punk for him anyway. Fez is gonna be busy getting his flower plucked by Rhonda tomorrow, and Kelso and Jackie are gonna be doing something disgusting together. That leaves you."

"What, you can't find a date?" She laughed bitterly. "Freakin' Eric can find a date."

"'Course I can," he said, "but I don't want my tongue down some chick's throat during the show. I actually plan on paying attention to the music."

He seemed sincere, and she thought over his offer. The Headaches put on a good show from what she'd heard at the radio station. Fans were always buzzing about them, and instead of imagining Eric Frenching Emily, she'd be focused on the music tomorrow night.

"Yeah, I'll go with you," she said. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me; bring earplugs. They play loud. Made the mistake of being by the speakers first time I saw 'em, and I couldn't hear right 'til the next day. Everything sounded like it was in a tunnel."

"I hear ya." She winced internally at the pun she'd just made, and Hyde's expression flattened.

"Yeah," he said, just as flat, before returning to his table. He clearly hadn't appreciated her corniness. She'd sounded like a dumbass, like Eric, and she needed him out of her system. She'd been doing a good job of it until this morning. Maybe after tomorrow night, the idea of him dating wouldn't hurt so much.

* * *

Eric's date with Emily started off well. He put a few quarters in The Hub's jukebox to serenade them with bands Donna didn't enjoy, like Styx and Wings. He paid for their hot dogs and fries, and Emily smiled like a wide-eyed toddler. He complimented her dimples, and she giggled and touched his shoulder.

They sat at the table closest to the bathrooms. It had the only booth seat in the place and allowed him to take up a lot of space. His casual dress shirt had long sleeves, and he rolled them up. He rested his arms on the back of the booth seat, as if Donna could see what she was missing.

But she wasn't anywhere near The Hub tonight. She was in Kenosha with Hyde. Only Hyde.

They'd gone to see some punk band play. They were both into underground music, and Fez and Kelso had other plans. Donna and Hyde being together, alone, made sense. They were friends. Just friends.

So why did doubts lick at the nape of Eric's neck? Donna had never been interested in Hyde romantically, and Hyde stopped pursuing her a long time ago. The subject was closed.

"You know, Eric," Emily said, "I've had a crush on you for so long. Well, since the paper came out."

"Oh, right. The Most Eligible Viking." Eric leaned back in the booth seat and widened the space between his legs. Not for Emily, but for Donna, who couldn't see it. "That's just good reporting."

* * *

Donna and Hyde had to use their fake IDs to get beyond The Brat Stop's dining area. Neither of them was quite eighteen yet, and minors weren't allowed at the concerts. The stage and concert floor were in an area past the bar, and Donna and Hyde both agreed that beer would have to wait. They didn't want to push their luck. All they needed was for an eagle-eyed bartender to doubt the veracity of their IDs, and they were both out on their butts.

Donna actually enjoyed flashing her ID at the bouncer. She'd never gotten to use it before, and Eric didn't even know she had it. The ID was something she'd kept to herself, something she'd gotten last year, hoping she and Eric would have some illicit adventures. Bar-hopping in Waukegan, going to a divey rock venue like this ... but the ID went unused at the bottom of her small safe.

The concert floor was jammed with bodies. They smelled like booze and sweat and were pierced with all kinds of metal: spikes and paperclips and safety pins. Donna and Hyde looked like a couple of tools in this crowd—their hands without beers, their skin without tattoos—until Hyde pulled out a joint.

He lit it, took a puff, and passed it to her. "Smoke up now," he said. "You won't get a chance when the music starts."

She didn't understand what he meant until The Headaches arrived on stage. Purple and green Mohawks adorned their heads, and feedback blasted out of their speakers. They launched into the first song, and the concert floor began to bounce. Everyone in the place was jumping up and down; some were thrashing about at their neighbors. Hyde prevented a stray elbow from smashing into Donna's face, and he maneuvered her to a less rowdy area.

"You okay?" he shouted.

"Great!"

She grasped his arm, and they joined the crowd in making the floor bounce. At first, she imagined stomping on Eric's smug face; then she forgot about him. Her senses filled with her surroundings, like The Headaches' screaming, pounding music and the heat from being packed into a small place with so many bodies. And the smiles she shared with Hyde whenever they looked at each other.

Sweat soaked her clothes by the end of the concert. Her hair was a stringy mess, and she had to smell awful. More than one bruise would flower on her skin from colliding into wasted punks. But despite all of this, she finally felt okay and like herself...

Without her mom.

* * *

Hyde drove Donna back home after the concert. He parked his El Camino in its usual spot, on the street behind the Formans' garage, and once they were out of the car, he kept Donna from leaving. "Night's not over yet, Big Red."

She said nothing but leaned against the Camino's flatbed. He climbed onto it and pulled some warm beer from beneath a tarp. Then he leapt back onto the pavement.

"Gotta make up for not drinking at the show," he said and passed her a beer. He cracked open his own and took a swallow. The beer was warm, all right, but at least it was beer.

"The night's been fun," Donna said. "I've been spending, like, way too much time worrying about my mom and stuff."

Her words drifted around Hyde's awareness like fireflies, lighting up an obvious truth: Donna was as down about her mom's absence as she was about Forman. Hyde should have realized that.

"Your ma keep in contact with you?" he said.

"Mostly through letters. She doesn't want to call the house because of my dad, and she's been moving around a lot. Her last letter said she got a job as a receptionist for a reinsurance company—and that she's auditioning for a lot of commercials." She looked down at her beer, into the dark opening of the can. "I just want her to be safe, you know? In one place and in one piece."

"Yeah, I get it." He sipped at his beer and allowed himself a moment to think. Saying the wrong thing would shut Donna down, and she needed a sympathetic ear and mouth. "I sometimes wonder if Edna's living the high life," he said, "either as someone's mistress or whoring herself out to the lowest bidder."

Donna screwed up her face but not in revulsion. Her expression communicated mostly shock and worry. "Have you heard from her at all since she left?"

"Nope."

"I'm sorry. That sucks."

"Actually, it's pretty good." He swallowed too much beer in one gulp. It went down painfully, and a belch followed. "Her leaving cemented the idea she doesn't give a shit about me. When she was around, part of me denied the truth hitting me in the face every day—oh, wait, that was her hand."

The shock in Donna's eyes deepened. "How can you be smiling about that?"

He touched his lips self-consciously. He hadn't realized he was smiling, but he knew why he was. "'Cause she ain't doing it anymore."

"So," her thumb flicked her beer can's pull-tab, "how did you get over your mom leaving?"

He shrugged. "I didn't, not totally. Probably be pissed about it 'til I croak. But I can't change what Edna did or where she is, so focusing on it is a waste of time." He raised his beer and gestured with it, indicating the neighborhood—hell, the whole world around them. "I got music to listen to, chicks to screw, Kelso to burn. My dance card's full."

"So you're saying you don't give the pain room in your head."

"Yup. And when it manages to creep into my skull, I go for a drive, usually end up somewhere in Mt. Hump Park, and kick a tree until my skull's clear again."

Donna laughed. "Come on. You don't actually kick trees."

He quirked up an eyebrow.

"You kick trees," she said flatly.

"I can show you a few I've messed up."

"Why the hell do you kick trees?"

He scratched the back of his neck. The topic wasn't his favorite to discuss, but she needed him to keep going, so he did. "It's either that or getting into bar fights. But coming home every so often with a shiner'll make Mrs. Forman freak out, so..."

"You kick trees."

"Yeah."

She laughed some more. "Do you hug them afterward?"

"Uh, no."

She fell silent and finished her beer. She rolled the empty can between her hands then crushed it.

"I'm, like, so pissed at my mom for going," she eventually said. "Did she think about me at all before she made that choice? I mean, when I was growing up, I never questioned whether or not she loved me. Not until she jumped into the El Eldorado and left." She pressed her crushed beer can into her chin. "Worst part is, I feel guilty for being angry."

"You got every right to be pissed," he said. "Doesn't mean you don't love her. Just means you're pissed."

Donna's demeanor shifted at this statement. Her shoulders straightened up, and her expression lightened, as if she'd cast a sack of bricks from her back. "That makes a lot of sense. ... In fact, everything you've said tonight does. Thanks," she squeezed his hand briefly, "you know, for listening."

A belch, originating from deep inside Hyde's chest, served as a "You're welcome."

* * *

Things with Emily didn't work out so well. Though her flattery had boosted Eric's ego, she couldn't stimulate him intellectually—or physically. But his Most Eligible Viking status was getting him all the dates he wanted, and over the next few weeks, he lorded this fact over Donna's head.

She wasn't dating anyone, and he liked that. Maybe it meant she wasn't over him after all. Then again, maybe she was dating around in secret. Unlike him, she was capable of being sneaky. He had to draw out the truth somehow, and he knew just the way.

On a Saturday afternoon, the whole gang was hanging out in his basement. Eric got a Popsicle from the deep-freeze and sat on the top edge of the couch. He planted his feet on the cushion next to Donna's right thigh and began.

"Yep, yep, yep," he said, "boys and girls, The Kid's getting a new nickname 'round these parts."

"Besides 'Foreskin'?" Hyde said from his chair, and everyone but Eric laughed.

"No, besides 'The Kid'."

"But nobody calls you that," Fez said.

Eric put up his hands, and Popsicle juice dribbled onto his skin. "Just shut up and listen, okay? That girl Emily went on about how great I am, and her friends Sarah and Jessica both asked me out. Then Jake Bradley's sister invited me to watch one of the Viking's football games with her."

Jackie gasped. "Not Suzy!" She was sitting on Kelso's lap, and Kelso was sitting beside Donna on the couch. Jackie tapped at Donna's arm furiously. "But she's popular! That's just not possible."

Donna brushed Jackie off her. She didn't seem to be listening to the conversation, so Eric spoke louder.

"Oh, it's possible." He grinned for effect. "And _oh, Susanna._ She didn't cry for me because I agreed to go out with her again. Yep, yep..." He patted Donna's shoulder, and she shrugged him off. "Rumors are spreading like wildfire about me. I'm getting quite the reputation. And that new nickname of mine? It's 'The Charmer'. Girls think I'm charming."

"I think you're..." Donna said, but the last word was swallowed.

"I'm considering starting a sign-up sheet," he continued, "or a waiting list for girls who want dates with me. It's all getting a bit too hard to handle. Maybe I should get a secretary—"

"How is this fair?" The lament came not from Donna but Fez. He was scowling at Eric from the lawn chair. "How can you be getting action from so many whores? I haven't gotten past second base with my girlfriend, and I've been dating her for months. I cannot have another Michael Kelso in my life."

"Better to get to second base with one chick," Hyde said, "than never to leave the bench with a dozen."

"Burn!" Kelso shouted, and Donna burst out laughing.

A mouthful of Popsicle garbled Eric's speech, "That's not true!" but the high pitch of his voice came through. He chewed and swallowed and forced his voice to be deeper. "I've left the bench plenty of times."

"And struck out," Hyde said.

Donna and Kelso's amusement was visibly growing. Their laughter became full-bodied, so much so that Jackie leapt off Kelso's lap and slapped the side of his neck. He didn't seem to notice her irritation, though. He interrupted his laughter only to declare another burn.

Eric pointed his half-eaten Popsicle at Kelso, Donna, and Hyde in turn. "That is _not_ accurate, Hyde," he said. "That's not accurate at all!"

But Hyde's ridicule wasn't completely off-base. Eric couldn't bring himself to do more with his dates than make out with them. Even when a girl guided his hand to her breast, he pulled away. Fooling around with someone who wasn't Donna didn't feel right. It would've been easier had Donna been dating someone herself. Maybe that was her plan, to fill him with so much guilt he couldn't be with anyone else—

A strange sound disrupted Eric's thoughts, the sound of lips smacking. He glanced to his right. Donna was standing by Hyde and straightening up, as if she'd just kissed him. "See ya in an hour," she said before darting up the basement stairs.

Heat overtook the back of Eric's neck and spread into his brain. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" Hyde said.

"Lips, face, hers, yours!"

Hyde heaved a sigh. "It's called a kiss, Forman."

"Yeah, I know that. What's she doing kissing you?"

"Ask her."

Eric's eyes locked on Hyde's too-relaxed face. "I'm asking you."

"Oh, this is bringing back memories," Fez said. "Hyde-trying-to-steal-Donna-from-Eric memories. Only Donna is no longer Eric's, so Hyde isn't stealing her. He's—"

"Shut it, Fez," Hyde said. He was out of his seat now. "Let's take this to a more private venue, huh, Forman?"

"Sure," Eric said. "Yeah. Okay."

He took the last bite of his Popsicle then stuck its wet stick on Kelso's cheek. Kelso's disgusted yelp followed Eric into Hyde's room, but Hyde closed the door on it. He turned on his stereo, and The Ramones blasted out of the speakers.

"Does it have to be so loud?" Eric said.

"You want Abbot and Costello out there to hear us?"

"You know what? I don't care if they hear." Eric stood close to Hyde, probably closer than he should have. "You saw your chance with Donna and you took it. She's not dating anyone else," he jabbed a finger at Hyde's chest, "'cause she's dating you!"

"Donna and I aren't dating," Hyde said but didn't react to Eric's poke. He was entirely too calm, too measured, but it all looked like guilt to Eric.

He didn't risk jabbing Hyde's chest again. Instead he backed as far away from the stereo's speakers as possible. The Ramones were giving him a headache. He sat on an old, dusty trunk of his parents, something they'd stored here before the room had become Hyde's.

"You always wanted Donna," Eric said, "and you've just been biding your time. I bet you even influenced her to break up with me, whispering evil things in her ear!"

"You're freakin' crazy, man." Hyde sat down on his cot and grabbed his bottle of Brut after-shave. He played with the bottle's top. "I got over her when I saw how in love with you she was, all right? Wanting her made me act like an asshole—to both of you—and I ain't goin' back there."

Eric stared at the bottle in Hyde's hands. Hyde often fidgeted with something inanimate when he was uncomfortable, but Eric's anger had begun to run out of fuel. "Then—then why are you two spending so much time together lately?" He moved his gaze to Hyde's face, to the eyes covered by Hyde's ever-present sunglasses. "Concerts and movies and bowling?"

"'Cause _you're_ acting like an asshole," Hyde said.

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. All you ever talk about is the chicks you're dating. You keep throwing that in Donna's face, and I'm bored as hell by it. You're a drag to hang out with now."

Eric's anger sputtered to nothing. "I am?"

"You are," Hyde said, and the quality of his voice changed. It lost most of its edge and softened. "I'm not interested in nailing Donna, okay? But she's my friend, and she's havin' a rough time since her mom left, and I'm not leaving her in the lurch."

"Oh," Eric tapped his shoes awkwardly on the cement floor, "okay." His mouth felt dry, and he swallowed. "I'm sorry, man. And I'm glad she's—well, that she's got someone to, you know, talk to."

"Yeah." Hyde finally turned down his stereo. "If you remembered you two used to be friends, that'd help her out even more."

Eric stood up without thought, "You're right," and rushed to the door. He propelled himself into the basement, powered by guilt and a host of other emotions he had no time to analyze. He barreled outside to the stone stairs, sprinted up them and across the driveway to the Pinciottis' backyard. His feet hurt and his chest burned, but he made it to the Pinciottis' kitchen.

Joanne was giving Bob a cooking lesson. A T-bone steak was sizzling in a pan, and its mild spicy seasoning hung in the air. Had the meat been bacon, Eric might've been distracted, but he said, "Is Donna around?"

Joanne nodded toward the ceiling. "Upstairs, getting ready for her date."

"Jo-Jo, she's not going on a date," Bob said. "She's just spending some platonic time with that Hyde-kid."

"Well, she's spending an awfully long time getting ready for something platonic," Joanne said.

"So she's upstairs?" Eric said but didn't wait for a response. He dashed to the Pinciottis' living room and flew up the stairs, chanting to himself, "Not a date, not a date, not a date."

Donna's door was closed. He hesitated before knocking. Would she even want to see him? Maybe not, but she had to hear him. He knocked, and the door swung open.

His eyes widened upon seeing her, and his mouth fell agape. She had on a dark shirt and dark pants, nothing out of the ordinary. But green eyeshadow, peach blush, and berry-pink lip gloss adorned her face, as well as a good measure of surprise. She clearly hadn't expected him, and he hadn't expected her all made up.

"Can I—" a tangle of nerves was in his throat, and he coughed to break it up, "can I come in?"

"Not if you're here to tell me about some hootie-mama you're going out with tonight."

"Won't say a word about that. I promise."

She backed away from the door. "Then you can come in."

He entered her room and walked past her desk. It was covered in more makeup supplies than he remembered her owning, and the sight ate away at his resolve. Jackie must have bought them for her. With Donna's mother gone, Jackie's influence was growing. Donna had to be experimenting. He consoled himself with these thoughts and sat on her bed.

"I'm here to apologize," he said to her hardened glare, "for being an asshole. I should be more sensitive about everything that's going on with you—"

"Excuse me?" Her glare became hostile, and he frowned. He hadn't been very good at communicating when they were together, and he plain stunk at it now that they were apart, but he kept on trying.

"You know, our break-up, your mom running off. It's a lot for one person to take. It would drive anyone a little psycho." He paused. Her glare had gone from hostile to murderous. Her cheeks reddened beneath the peach blush, and her jaw was twitching. "And I'm still being an asshole." He shook his head and sucked in a breath. "Damn it."

She smiled cheerlessly. "Yup."

He stood up. He could protect himself better on his feet if she got violent. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm still trying to deal with our new situation. We went from being friends— _best_ friends—to a lot more. And now I don't know what we are."

"Well, neither do I."

"But what I do know is that I don't want to hurt you."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You have a funny way of showing it."

"Yeah, I do. But I'll keep my business to myself from now on." He gazed down at his feet, and a deeper frown surfaced on his lips. He smoothed it out before gazing back up at her. "If you were dating someone—or someones—I'd probably be a wreck if I had to see it. So I'll just shut up about my Most Eligible Viking Status."

"I'd appreciate that."

He headed toward the door. "I guess I'll be going. Have fun with Hyde—"

"Wait." She grasped his wrist and pulled him into an embrace. "Thank you."

He hugged her back tightly. She was so warm and smelled like watermelon. Had she been sucking on a Jolly Rancher? She used to kiss him with candy melting on her tongue...

No, he couldn't do this, wander through memories. A chaotic wave of emotion was cresting through him, and he still didn't want to analyze it. He let her go and acknowledged her with a nod. She nodded back with a quality in her eyes he didn't understand. He preferred it that way, being without comprehension. Comprehending would make the pain worse.

* * *

The next month passed by quickly, and Donna enjoyed the changes time brought. Her breakup with Eric hurt less sharply. He'd stayed true to his word and kept his dating life to himself. And three weeks ago, Jackie consented to be seen in public with her again.

Jackie's reasoning was as superficial as it was startling: Donna had finally come to her senses, her _fashion_ senses. She was wearing tighter, more revealing tops. She applied more than ChapStick to her lips and took extra care with her hair, braiding it in interesting ways. Donna hadn't noticed she was doing these things, not until Jackie pointed them out.

In spite of herself, Donna was glad to have to have Jackie's newfound approval. She felt less outnumbered with Jackie around. Sure, Hyde fell more often on Donna's side than not these days, but he could still get lost into "guy mode". Eric, Kelso, and Fez occasionally launched into anti-woman rants. These were clearly derived from sexual frustration, and Hyde added his own snide remarks to the mix. But Jackie always backed Donna up.

"You've been generating a lot of buzz around school," Jackie said now. She and Donna were sitting together in Donna's backyard, knee-to-knee on the outdoor sofa. Jackie sipped on a can of Fresca, but she stopped and smiled widely. "I think it's time."

Donna opened her can of cherry soda and took a swallow. "For what?"

"To clique-jump. Jake Bradley's been unattached for a few weeks, and rumor has it you've caught his eye."

"Um, okay."

"Donna, few people in your situation get this opportunity, to go from a nobody group to sitting among cheerleaders and football players."

"You're in our 'nobody group,' too," Donna said. .

"Oh, that doesn't count. I'm a cheerleader and dating the hottest boy in school—"

"Who's also in our 'nobody group'."

"Would you shut up and listen?" Jackie huffed out a breath. "I can get you and Jake hooked up."

"No, thanks."

"But it's been months since you've been single. You should be ready to date already."

"I'm not interested in dating," Donna said and studied her can of soda. "Would you drop it already?"

She turned the can to its front. It was mostly white and featured a Charlie-Brown-type character. A wooden board floated behind his head with the brand's name, "I Like Worms," written on it. Why anyone would name a drink "I Like Worms" was beyond her, but it was infinitely more interesting than the prospect of dating Jake Bradley.

"Oh, God, don't tell me you're not over Eric." Jackie sat up straight. "That's why you haven't been dressing like a truck driver lately, isn't it? You're trying to make Eric jealous!"

"No, it's not about Eric." Donna sipped at her cherry soda and leaned back on the sofa.

"Then who's it about?"

Donna didn't answer. Her last response had given Jackie an opening to snoop, and she couldn't risk widening that gap. She set her gaze across the yard, over the fence, and on neighboring houses. Their white siding was uniform and unrevealing. Donna tried to make her face the same way.

"No," Jackie said. The word was both hushed and horrified, but Donna remained silent, inspiring Jackie to say "No" in a multitude of ways until she concluded with, "Not Steven!"

Donna clenched her teeth and refused to look in Jackie's direction.

"Don't deny it, Pinciotti." Jackie's finger came into Donna's line of sight then pointed down. "You're drinking Steven's favorite kind of soda."

Donna swallowed a defiant gulp from the can. "So what? I like it, too."

"Since when? I always see you drinking Coke." Jackie slapped Donna's knee roughly, and Donna cried out before glowering at her. "You're doing what girls typically do when they're crushing on a boy. You're taking on his likes, his preferences. It makes you feel closer to him."

Donna's cheeks flushed. Jackie was right, and she hated that Jackie was right. "Okay, fine," Donna said with a groan. "I might have a _mini-_ crush. He's been really nice to me this whole time. He, like, gets it about my mom leaving." She stuck her finger into her soda can and scraped the opening's sharp edge. The scraping made a scratchy, metallic _clink_ that seemed to annoy Jackie. "He's been through the same thing. He instinctively knows when I need to talk about it and when I need to have fun." Her fingertip stung from scraping the inside of the can, and she stopped. "Hyde's a really good guy."

"I know," Jackie said, "but Donna—"

"What?

"He's Eric's best friend."

Donna's temper pricked at the center of her forehead, threatening to become either a fit of yelling or a headache. "He's also one of Kelso's best friends, and that didn't stop you from going after him."

"That's different," Jackie said. "Eric didn't cheat on you a thousand times. In fact, he did the opposite." She drank heartily from her Fresca. Then she swirled the can around, as if it were a snifter of brandy. "Eric's great crime was pledging his undying monogamy to you, which rightly sent you running for the hills. After all, it was _Eric_ doing the pledging. I mean, making love only to Eric for the rest of your life—?" Her voice cut out with a squeak, and her gaze suddenly seemed very far away. "Eww! I can't even believe I used 'making love' and 'Eric' in the same sentence." She gasped and covered her mouth. "There I go again!"

"Jackie, shut up."

"You can't date Steven."

Donna shoved herself off the sofa. "I can do whatever the hell I want. And if you start gossiping about any of this, I'll tell Kelso I caught you lip-locking with your boss at the Cheese Palace."

"No!" Jackie shot to her feet and grabbed Donna's wrist. "Okay, Donna, okay. I promise I won't say anything. I can't believe you saw me and Todd kissing last week."

"Just be glad it wasn't Hyde or Eric. They would've blackmailed you worse than I'm doing now."

Jackie released Donna's wrist and cupped her own forehead. "That would've been a nightmare."

"Yeah. I'll see ya later."

Donna left Jackie in the yard and went inside the house. She tossed her can of I Love Worms into the kitchen garbage and laughed. She really did feel closer to Hyde when she drank that soda. Did he do anything similar to feel closer to her, like listen to Janis Joplin? She doubted it, but he'd invited her to hang out at the water tower tonight, and that was enough for her.

* * *

Hyde had brought a six-pack of Schlitz and a radio to the water tower, and Donna had brought a strange mood. First thing she did was bag on Forman for five minutes. She drank her first beer down quickly, too, and complained about not being able to hear the music.

Maybe Hyde should've cranked the radio louder, but he didn't want to attract attention from below or above. Cops occasionally scouted the area, on foot or in a helicopter, and he couldn't afford to have another arrest on his record. He'd strategically placed himself and Donna behind a stand of tall trees. They sat with their legs dangling over the water tower's platform, and their feet skimmed the trees' uppermost branches. That didn't keep the moon from shining on them, but they were as hidden as they could be from the ground.

"Eric so should not have worn that shirt with that jacket for his date tonight," Donna said. It had to be her fiftieth burn of Forman since she climbed up the water tower.

"You feelin' all right?" Hyde said. "You're sounding like Jackie."

"Sorry." She put down her empty beer can and grabbed a full one. "I guess I'm a bit weirded out about his relationship with Shelly."

"Forman's sixth date with her."

"Yeah. I'm just glad he quit boasting about being Point Place's Most Eligible Dillhole."

Hyde laughed. Forman didn't do well when his ego was stroked. He tended to act like a tyrant, probably thanks to Red's dictatorial style of parenting. Donna didn't need an analysis of Forman's psychology, though, and Hyde wasn't much interested in it either.

"It's gotta be tough seeing him be with other girls," Hyde said and raised his beer to his lips. He took a slow, patient sip while waiting for her response.

"It is," she eventually said, "because it means he's really over me."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, man."

"I'm not totally unhappy about it, though," she said. "The last six months of my relationship with him kind of felt like prison. I don't know where my life's gonna lead me, and I can't be tethered in place by him or anyone." She stared out over the trees, toward the dirt road that led to the highway. "I have to keep my options open, you know?" She swallowed down some of her second beer, and she gulped down some more before speaking again. "It's not that I didn't love Eric, but he became a control freak. It was getting so I couldn't blink without his permission."

"Forman wasn't that bad," Hyde said.

"Maybe not," she glanced at him, "but you get where I'm coming from, right?"

"Yeah. There's a reason I don't do the girlfriend-thing. Any more than a week, and the chick's out. Can't have people gettin' attached. Drags ya down like cement overshoes."

"Exactly. I thought I'd be 'swimming with the fishes' if I kept Eric's promise ring—" She leaned her head back into the moonlight and groaned. "God, we shouldn't have watched _The Godfather_ last week."

Hyde made his voice gravelly and spoke in his best Brando impression. "Watch what you say about my movie."

Donna laughed and slapped Hyde's arm. "Shut up." She was looking at him fully now and smiling. "You know, I've been having a really good time with you lately."

"Yeah, it's been cool."

"You, like, don't put any pressure on me to be someone I'm not."

Hyde finished off his first beer with a long pull. "Hate it when people do that to me, so why would I do it to someone else?"

They fell into silence then, but their conversation—combined with Forman's accusation last month—assaulted his guts. He bit down on the corner of his bottom lip, a habit from when he was a freakin' kid. He cut it out and leathered up.

"Look, Donna," he said, "I told you before, but I'm sorry I was a dick to you—back when you and Forman were first goin' out. I shouldn't have forced you to kiss me, man. It was a crap-move."

"Yeah, but that was then." She put down her beer and palmed his cheek. " This is now." She drew his face in close before he could react, pressed her lips against his mouth.

He parted his lips just enough to say, "Donna—" but opening his mouth was a mistake. She deepened the kiss, and he pushed her away. "Whoa. You tryin' to make a point? About the night I did the same thing to you?"

"What?" Tears rose in her eyes, and he whispered a curse. She'd been genuinely kissing him, probably for the same reason Jackie had kissed him last year. She was using him as a rebound guy.

"Donna," he said, "I know you're hurtin', but you don't want me."

"I don't want to, like, give you a promise ring or anything," she said, and her wet eyes gleamed in the moonlight, "but I thought we could have some fun for a while."

"I thought we _were_ havin' fun."

" _Fun_ -fun, Hyde."

She meant sex, and Hyde rubbed his jaw. He wanted a second beer, to guzzle it down, but that would make things dangerous. Donna was obviously buzzed—and hot as hell. He dug being with her, and he was a guy with a healthy libido...

"We can't have _fun-_ fun," he said. "You're my friend, man. Forman's my friend. I ain't doing this."

"Eric and I broke up, remember?" she said. "And he and Shelly are probably having sex right now. Ever think of that? Anyway, he has no say in what I do—or who I do it with."

"Yeah, but Forman and I aren't 'broken up,'" he said, and she frowned. "Listen, if you'd been anyone else's chick, I'd do you in a second—" Her frown twisted with confusion. "Not that kinda second. I mean, I'd have no problem nailin' ya. But us bein' together, it would be like screwing my best friend's wife."

" _Ex_ -wife."

"Close enough. I'm not screwin' him over by screwin' you. And you'd feel like crap about it the next day. Trust me. This shit never ends well."

Her confusion only seemed to deepen at that, and he grimaced..

"Not _that_ way." His ineptitude at wording things was not his best quality. It frustrated him and made him want to quit trying, but Donna needed to understand what he meant, so he struggled through. "You'd enjoy it while were goin' at it, _really_ enjoy it 'cause I'm great in the sack. What I'm tryin' to say is, fooling around with me ain't worth it. That's something we wouldn't be able to take back, man. You and Forman still have a chance. I know it, so does everyone else in this town but you two. But you'll lose that chance if we mess it up by gettin' messy."

Donna sighed, and her shoulders slumped. "Yeah. You're right."

"Usually am."

"I'll just have to find someone else to 'get messy' with." She drank from her beer again. "I mean, if Eric gets to do that, why shouldn't I?"

"Go nuts," he said and finally allowed himself a second beer. He cracked open a can and swallowed some down. "Just don't fuck anyone who hangs out in the basement—except for Jackie. That Forman would dig. Maybe have a mud-wrestling match with her first. Get all dirty."

Donna was laughing, and she shoved his shoulder with mock disgust. He laughed with her, but then she calmed down and spoke seriously. "Thanks ... for talking me off the ledge I almost tumbled over."

Hyde slipped his arm around her shoulders, "No problem," and raised his beer can to her. "Friends for life, man."

She raised her beer can to him. "Friends for life."


End file.
